


My Funny Valentine

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Babes are corny, Babes are sentimental, Daisy's sad childhood mentioned, F/M, Friendship/Love, Male-Female Friendship, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, a little melancholy but mostly fluffy, multiple seasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 12:51:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6006715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short Valentine's Day Skoulson ficlet about the babes being loyal to each other over three seasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Funny Valentine

1.

The day comes and goes.

He remembers celebrating it with Audrey, before things all fell apart.

His life, anyway.  In the most literal sense.

Sure, it’s sentimental, but he likes that sort of thing when he ever gets the chance. 

Audrey liked that about him, found it charming.  The dinner, the flowers.  The sappy card.

He’s not sure she would.

Actually, he doesn’t think she would at all.  It might remind her of the past.  Different schools and different parents and living alone in her van before they met.

Nothing must seem permanent to her.

Still, he can’t help but look at her and wish that Skye had people falling over themselves to be her Valentine.

How can someone that fantastic feel so alone in the world?  It’s terrible to him, like there’s some great wrong in the universe that needs correcting.

She glances up at him from her pad, across the desk and he has to look away, feels the tips of his ears get hot.

Was he staring?  Oh God. 

Why is he even thinking about her like this?  She’s not here for a Valentine, she’s training to be a SHIELD agent.

“A.C.”

He looks up at her again and sees her hand flat on his desk with a piece of paper under it.

“This is for you.  Sorry I didn’t give it to you yesterday. I lost track of things, planning the op.”

He frowns a little as she takes her hand away and picks up the folded piece of paper.

“Do you want me to look at this now, or-“

She gets up from the chair, obviously clued in that he’s flustered by the gesture.

He can see the heart drawn on the outside of the envelope.

“I made them for the team,” she starts to explain, gesturing nervously.  Not wanting rejection.  “It’s no big deal.”

“Thanks,” he nods back.

He watches her go and wonders again how she always does this.

It’s him who is supposed to be looking out for her.

 

 

2.

He stares at the piece of paper, even though he’s can feel the itch crawling under his skin and he unbuttons his sleeves to roll them up.

It’s probably time for him to carve again.

Another year, and now he’s keeping his distance.

Pushing her away, so she doesn’t have to see him like this.

She’s still here.  Dedicated to the cause, even if they didn’t get to the bottom of her mystery.

Still alive, even though the GH-325 that saved her, the same stuff inside of him, isn’t making her draw shapes into walls.

There’s no compulsion driving her on, slowly making her doubt everything, needing an answer to a question you don’t even know.

It didn’t do anything to her at all.

His hand shakes a little, and he opens up the folded piece of paper with the heart drawn on it to steady himself.

                _What’s cooler than being cool?_

_A.C._

The little drawing of the block of ice wearing the tie is pretty funny.  It always makes him smile when he looks at it.

She’s so goofy.  Who would’ve thought?

There are so many things he wants to tell her.  Before it’s too late for him.  He won’t end up like Garrett, it won’t go that far.

He can’t tell her that she’s more to him than just another agent, not now, it would be unfair.

How he’s wondered that if things were different, and if they’d met another way, would she have given him this second chance?

Even if he’s looking at the end, he could never regret this.  Her.

He wasn’t looking at the end when he died the first time. Just acted on impulse.  And now he’s having to stare it in the face every day.

May arrives in his office and he quickly folds the makeshift card back up and shuts it in his desk.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

She sighs.

 

 

3.

“I can’t believe you still have that,” she smiles, looking up at him doubtfully as to why it’s sitting out on top of his desk to begin with.

He watches her trace her finger over the heart on the paper, like she's remembering.

“I can’t believe you ever thought I was cool.”

“Huh,” she answers him, opening it up and huffing at her writing. “One of the few things I’ve managed to get right.  You should give me more credit.”

She folds it again and puts it back on his desk.

“Daisy,” he sighs and stares up at her. “You get a lot of things right.”

She gets up off of the desk corner where she’s perched and gives him a forced smile.

“Things will get better.”

Her eyes lift up to the ceiling and he can see she’s holding back tears.

“It’s not like you to say that sort of thing.”

She sounds almost irritated, the way it comes out.  Like she doesn’t want to believe it. Or that she thinks it's a platitude.

It's not.

“I say it,” he says, rifling through the partially open drawer of his desk. “Because I know you.  You’re going to _make_ things get better.  And I’m going to help.”

Her fingers reach up to touch her mouth, and he gets up and circles the desk to hug her tightly against him.

They haven’t done this in a long time.  For a lot of reasons.  Things that have gotten in the way.

“You’re still here,” she says, pressing into his shoulder, and he can feel her face hot and wet against the fabric of his shirt. “After everything.  And losing your hand-”

“I’m where I want to be,” he interrupts quietly.

“Phil-“

She looks up at him, with her huge, watery eyes, and he can’t remember the last time they were this close.

The feelings he has for her are unchanged, even though they’ve disagreed more than they ever have, he’s just grown to-

“I have something for you,” he says, reaching into his pocket. “It’s not very good, but, it _is_ sentimental.”

She laughs at him and takes the chocolate bar out of his hand, tearing open a corner of the package.

“This is that chocolate you bought at the motel in LA? The night that-“

“Yeah,” he shrugs sliding his hands into his pockets. “Like I said, not very good.  That moment, though.  It stuck with me.”

The way she’s eyeing him now is making him nervous, like she’s trying to work him out like a puzzle.

But only just a little.

“I thought since we’re kind of both in the same boat, you could be _my_ Valentine. For a change.”

The corner of her mouth turns up, and she holds out the chocolate to him in offering as he breaks off a piece and puts it in his mouth.

“Okay.”

“I have to warn you though,” he says, while he chews. “I’m terribly romantic.”

"I know."

And she smiles.


End file.
